Friday, September 30, 2011

On our way to Liberty Square, we passed Ground Zero. Hundreds of people were gathered, less than a block from where the Twin Towers fell. They were socializing, reading, delivering impromptu speeches, or huddled together over the makeshift media center composed of perhaps a dozen laptops and other devices and connected to a whirring electrical generator.

The noise was intense, and the whining generator and tumult of voices was the least of it. City traffic on either side of the park blasted sound - the rumble of buses loaded with tourists; the honk of car horns and the squealing of brakes. Above all there was the roar of construction. Where the Twin Towers once stood, workers made haste, filling the gap in the New York skyline. The echoing clatter of metal on metal. It was often a challenge to understand the words of those next to you.

This cacophony lent an air of chaos to the already loosely-organized occupation in Liberty Square. First thing, we checked in with folks at an information desk on the west side of the park. "We're here to sign up!" one of my companions announced. The young men at the info desk suggested that we could get involved with a committee, but encouraged us to look around and get a feel for things first. So, we moseyed.

It took us hours before we figured out how to participate actively in the occupation. At first, we simply mingled, ate, and watched the spectacle. For some reason, our first hours at the occupation were particularly "spectacular." While most of the occupiers seemed like pretty ordinary citizens, there were a few hyped-up individuals who were running around giving impassioned, incoherent speeches. There were also a few nay-sayers who came to debate the occupiers.

There were lots of cameras. Mostly independent media, but I saw some local television stations, Russia Today, and even a brief visit from FOX News. Add to that the tourists who stopped to take pictures of the occupation, and there sometimes seemed to be more photographers than subjects. Eventually, a march was announced. We eagerly joined in, happy to finally be able to actively participate in some way. We wound through the streets of lower Manhattan, eventually walking down Wall Street itself.

The aspect of the march that most stood out to me was the luxury that we passed on our way. We passed a tobacconist, where wealthy men puffed on cigars and laughed at us from behind thick glass. We walked by up-scale shops where neckties were on sale next to horse saddles, and wristwatches worth more than my family's annual income were available to those who could afford them.

It was eye-opening to be in the presence of the ruling class of this country. I get a lot of exposure to middle class - even wealthy middle class - individuals, but what I saw on Wall Street was of a different order. Some of them mocked us. There were cries of "take a shower!" or "get a job!" They took pictures of us and laughed as we passed.

Not everyone on Wall Street was a member of the elite, of course. It was fascinating to watch the difference in reaction between the ruling class and the working class people who were there to serve them. We got a standing ovation from the workers at Starbucks, and many working class people showed their support. Middle class folks seemed to be split. Some cheered us, others ignored us, and a few insulted us.

Wall Street is an ideal place to call for deep changes in how this country operates. Wall Street is not just a symbol - it is a functioning example of how the abusive power of the corporations and big banks dominate our society and mock our democratic process. More than ever, I am convinced that we - the ninety-nine percent - must hold accountable the elite one percent.

Occupy Wall Street is a movement to restore our democracy, rejecting corporate domination of our political system. This is a movement for economic justice, insisting that one percent of the population should not control eighty percent of our wealth. This is a movement for peace, issuing a call to end the wars that our country is waging around the globe. This movement is only secondarily about policy goals. Above all, it represents an attempt to create a community and culture that questions greed and concentration of power in the hands of the few.

The occupation is spreading. Though it began on Wall Street, there are women and men across North America who are offering our nation an invitation to embrace peace, justice and compassion. The occupation in Washington, DC begins tomorrow - Saturday, October 1st - at McPherson Square. I hope that those in the area will join us.

While I resonate with much of what Occupy Wall Street represents, it is important for me to be honest with myself that this movement is not grounded in a commitment to Jesus Christ. The occupation is - at least at this stage - a largely secular movement. Without the deep unity that the Spirit provides, the most we can ever be is a coalition, not a body.

But I believe that there is important work for Christians to do as part of this coalition. The Holy Spirit calls us to point towards the truth, mercy and justice that Jesus offers us, and it is my prayer that this growing movement will provide an opportunity for us to begin a conversation with the wider culture. May we as the Church let our light shine, providing an example of self-emptying love that draws the world into relationship with Jesus Christ.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Early in the morning, I will be departing for New York City. I have not been there since the summer of 2001. It was a different world back then. That was before 9/11 and Afghanistan. Before the PATRIOT ACT and the invasion of Iraq. So much has changed in the ten years since I have set foot in New York City.

My country seems primed to change yet again. New York has become the epicenter for a new, grassroots movement to call America back to our ideals of peace, democracy and freedom in community.

Many of you may not have heard much about the ongoing occupation that is taking place in lower Manhattan, near Wall Street. It is a shameful fact that the corporate media have almost completely ignored a movement that has the potential to be the beginning of an American version of the "Arab Spring" that has rocked North Africa and the Middle East.

Though we as Americans are accustomed to thinking of ourselves as "exceptional," we have a lot in common with countries around the world that are experiencing unrest as the financial system buckles under the pressure of corporate greed and lawlessness.

I do not completely identify myself with the demonstrators who have gathered on the streets of New York. I think that their analysis, process and organization is incomplete, at best. Nevertheless, I am grateful to these men and women who have taken the bold step of occupying Wall Street and demanding an end to the immoral financial and military systems that the wealthy have used to impoverish and disempower the citizens of the world.

I see lots of problems with the way the demonstrations have gone so far. There are many things that I imagine, if I were in the demonstrators' shoes, I would want to do differently. Yet, it feels wrong to stand on the sidelines and throw stones at those people who have the courage to express their God-given sense of moral outrage. I feel compelled to join my voice with theirs, calling for a more just, compassionate and democratic society in the United States.

It feels important that we not wait for this movement to be perfect before we join in. The occupation is young and fragile, and it needs our cooperation if it is to grow into a mature and broad-based call for righteousness.

Yes, I said righteousness. I believe that the Holy Spirit is at work in these demonstrations, calling us to greater faithfulness and christlikeness as a country. I believe that the Church has a responsibility to stand up and offer prophetic witness as the Body of Christ.

Jesus stands against injustice and oppression. He has come to liberate those held in bondage by human greed, and to proclaim good news to the poor.(1) I pray that we as his Church will have the courage to be an embodiment of his love and justice.

As I travel to New York, my prayer is that I might be a vessel of God's love and peace in a highly charged environment. I pray that the Holy Spirit might use me to help ground the demonstrations in the love and truth of Jesus Christ. I pray to be an embodiment of Christ's love, and a witness to his power to transform us as a people.

Please keep me - and all of those on the streets of lower Manhattan - in your prayers. There has been a fair amount of police brutality, and while I am by no means looking for trouble, sometimes trouble finds us.

May the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. Peace be to you all.

-

This video gives a good introduction to the nature of the occupation on Wall Street:

As a youth, Jon says he was a cultural Quaker. He participated in Quaker camps and activities, but he was not convicted in his heart of the Truth that Friends proclaim. After high school, Jon studied at Guilford College as a part of the Quaker Leadership Scholars Program. It was there that he began to personally wrestle with the Friends tradition.

Jon's time at Guilford was also the beginning of his musical career. He released two albums: Self in his sophmore year, and A Few Songs Occasioned in his senior year. Self, as the name might imply, was focused primarily on personal exploration. It was Jon's first foray into recording, and it bore the marks of a young man in the process of finding himself in the world.

Jon's second album was different. Composed as his senior project at Guilford, A Few Songs Occasioned rooted Jon's exploration deeply in the world of the first generation of Friends. Jon would later say that the process of composing and producing this album was what began to convict him of the message and witness of the early Quakers. Jon became a convinced Friend.

Following college, Jon spent a year at Pendle Hill - a Quaker study center near Philadelphia - during which time he released a third album, The Art of Fully Being. This album was a more mature version of Self. It was a self-exploration for sure, but one rooted in Jon's deepening walk with God. In The Art of Fully Being, Jon's spiritually grounded concern for the human and natural world comes across clearly. We see the way that God has been tendering Jon's heart, healing him of past wounds, and calling him into greater faithfulness.

Clothe Yourself in Righteousness

Jon's fourth full album (he came out with an EP in 2009) returns again to an explicit focus on the witness of the early Quaker movement. Two of the ten songs are retellings of early Quaker ministry, and all of the tracks are infused with a raw Quaker spirituality that draws directly on the explosive witness of the earliest generation of Friends.

In Clothe Yourself in Righteousness, Jon finds a dynamic balance between past and present, self and community, spirit and flesh. This is the work of a mature artist who has received the courage to look deep inside himself and bear the Truth. Guided by the witness of Christ in his heart, Jon's music reveals the intimacy and tenderness of God's love.

It also reveals the radical challenge of faithfulness. While Clothe Yourself in Righteousness basks in the tender love of God, it is also unflinching in its call to risky relationship with both God and our fellow humans. This album is sometimes comforting, but it does not leave us feeling comfortable. On the contrary, Jon calls on us to sacrifice selfish comfort as we pursue the Truth. Clothe Yourself in Righteousness invites us to "get naked" - making ourselves vulnerable for the sake of love, letting the power and protection of God become our only defense.

Clothe Yourself in Righteousness is a testament of courage. God has done enormous work in Jon's heart over the past several years, and it shows in this album. CYiR offers us an opportunity to join Jon on this journey, discovering the revealing, healing power of Christ's light.

This is a content-rich piece of art. There are lots of words in this album, and CYiR bears listening to again and again, just to catch the nuances of his poetry. Yet, this album would not be whole without the instrumental accompaniment of guitar, violin and cello. The violin and cello in particular give CYiR an epic, soaring feel that emotionally moves and lifts the spirit.

This is not pop music; it is not meant to be background. When you buy this album, I encourage you to resist the urge to multitask. Instead, before you hit play, sit down without any distractions, and open yourself to the roughly forty minutes of ministry that this album has in store for you. I trust that the Spirit will be present.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

"And when he was demanded of the Pharisees, when the Kingdom of God should come, he answered them and said, 'The Kingdom of God cometh not with observation: Neither shall they say, "Lo, here!" or "Lo, there!" For behold, the Kingdom of God is within you.'" - Luke 17:20-21

"Keep within. And when they say, Look here or look there is Christ, go not fourth, for Christ is within you. And those who try to draw your minds away from the teaching inside you are opposed to Christ. For the measure's within, and the light of God is within, and the pearl is within you, though hidden." - George Fox (1652), Adapted by Paulette Meier

The Kingdom of Heaven is not something for us to build. It is not an ideal future that we are constructing. Rather, it is a present reality that we are invited to participate in, at this very moment.

Our citizenship in this divine Kingdom is revealed by the way we relate to others. Do we brush them aside, in search of the ideal? Or do we recognize Christ's presence in the people, places and situations that frustrate us?

It makes sense that some Friends around here might imagine that we are a pastoral group. It is easy to divide the Quaker world into two camps - "programmed" and "unprogrammed."(1) Often this is code for "Evangelical" and "Liberal." Because Capitol Hill Friends is the only Quaker group in the DC area that is corporately Christian, some must think that we are a programmed, Evangelical Meeting. And from the perspective of Liberal Quakers in the DC area, I can imagine we might look pretty evangelical and "programmed"!

But at Capitol Hill Friends we see things differently. We find our primary identity neither in the Liberal nor Evangelical Quaker streams. We cannot shoe-horn our faith into either Evangelicalism or Liberalism. Instead, we seek to put our trust in the love and presence of Jesus. He is here, now, teaching us how to be his friends.

Something new is emerging at Capitol Hill Friends. It does not fit neatly into the old binaries of 20th century Quakerism. Rather than getting bogged down in fights between Liberals and Evangelicals, we are simply trying to follow Jesus. This feels risky, because he leads us to unfamiliar places. But there is freedom here, too.

Jesus releases us from the culture wars that are tearing at the fabric of the United States, including the Quaker community. Jesus sets us free from dogmatic worldviews that make us feel both secure and terribly afraid. As we lean on Jesus, we are liberated from the need to fit our lives into tidy little boxes - or to confine others to them. He uproots the seeds of war, whose roots have sunk so deep into our hearts that we hardly notice them anymore.

Rather than basing our identity on worship style, I would prefer to focus on faithfulness. Do we live in the life and power of Jesus Christ? Is our whole personality being remade in his image? Do we embody his love and justice in our communities? Does Jesus gather us together as a community, teaching us to be his friends?

Friday, September 09, 2011

It was just weeks into my freshman year of college in North Newton, Kansas. Eighteen years old. On the cusp of adulthood, I was brash, proud, and naïve.

I had no idea - none of us did - what that day would become. It seemed like any other. Bright. Fresh. Full of the hope and trembling of early fall in freshman year.

I remember the empty sky over Kansas. Pale blue, lightly brushed by cirrus clouds. How could it be so normal here? A thousand miles away.

For my part, I felt safe. No one would fly airplanes into my dorm. Might as well be in another country.

Many were scared, though. The towers were still burning when people began rushing to their cars. Rumors that there might be a shortage of gasoline. Though we would ask the question again and again in the following months, deep down we already knew why they hated us.

I remember my own fear, not of the terrorists, but of the president. Oh, God - will he start a nuclear war? Even more unpredictable and dangerous than a wounded animal: A wounded empire.

It all felt so surreal. It's like a movie.

I remember the burning. Instant replays of an airliner knifing into the second tower. The smoke rising slowly above the famed New York City horizon. Woe, the great city.

I remember office documents taking flight, like butterflies dancing around the rigid towers. Life escaping the filing cabinet.

And then, seeing human beings jumping. Knowing real people were inside those burning, metallic shells. This touched the heart of even an oblivious, arrogant teenager like me. A thousand miles away.

Tuesday, September 06, 2011

After a long and very eventful summer, things have finally begun to slow down a bit. This season, I have been away from home at least as often as I have been present. Now, with fall approaching, it is my hope that I might spend more of my time focusing on the local mission of the Church here in Washington. As worthwhile and - I do hope - Spirit-led as my summer travels have been, I feel God's hand on me to continue to slow down the pace of my life, leaving more room for personal relationships and community-building here in the city where I live.

The longest trip I took this past month was to Barnesville, Ohio, for the annual gathering of Ohio Yearly Meeting. These were the first yearly meeting sessions that Faith and I had attended as members, though the gathering felt very familiar, in large part due to our regular involvement in Stillwater Quarterly Meeting, which inludes most of OYM's Meetings and membership.

This year was an especially intense gathering, as we had a lot of discernment to do together around weighty questions such as the revision of the Yearly Meeting's queries, as well our understanding of human sexuality. Over all, I was pleased with the spirit in which our sessions were conducted. Especially in our consideration of human sexuality - including homosexuality - I was thankful to see that Friends were careful to maintain a humble and teachable spirit. We did have a sense that the Holy Spirit was present in our midst, teaching us. Though we have not arrived at any conclusions as a body, there was a sense in the body that we were seeking for the Holy Spirit to gather us together and lead us into the fullness of the Truth.

In the context of the Religious Society of Friends and the broader Christian Church, where so many bodies are splitting over these questions, it seems nothing less than a gift of the Holy Spirit that we in Ohio Yearly Meeting are able to refrain from the need to purge those of different opinions. May God grant us the grace to continue to struggle together, and ultimately to be brought into a deeper understanding of God's Word(1) with us and among us.

We also had the opportunity this month to gather with our Monthly Meeting - Rockingham Friends - at the home of Faye Chapman, one of our members, who lives in Blue Grass, Virginia. It was a blessing to gather with Friends for worship, fellowship and business. I particularly enjoyed helping Faye get ready for winter, splitting and stacking firewood. I was reminded during this trip how much we benefit from the support we receive from Friends at Rockingham Meeting. They are a great source of strength and wisdom as we live into the mission that God has for us in the city.

The work in Washington does feel like it is being blessed. Despite the challenges that most churches experience in maintaining participation during the summer, our numbers have held relatively steady. If anything, this summer has been a time of general strengthening in the relationships among those in our community. In addition, we have also welcomed a number of new folks who have begun to take part in our community.

I have been learning during my time here in DC that nurturing a new church is more like gardening than it is like building a house. With construction, the speed of development depends primarily upon the skill of the builder, the number and dedication of the workers, and the availability of raw materials. Church-planting is more like gardening, in the sense that while we are called to prepare the soil, plant seeds and water the field, we cannot ultimately control what growth, if any, will emerge. Those kind of results depend upon the God's grace and the response of others. Ultimately, we gardeners cannot dictate the growth - spiritual or numerical - of the new church.

This is really humbling. I was raised in a society that stresses the importance of demonstrable, quantifiable results; results that can be expressed on a graph or a pie chart. Rather than placing its focus on faithfulness to God's guidance, our culture demands that we justify our lives by how well we live up to human standards of success.

This is one reason that the church community is so important. The Church helps remind us not to judge our success or failure by consumeristic human standards. This community creates an environment that encourages us to set our sights on God. The Church reminds us of who we really are - children of the living God - and what our true priorities should be.

I am grateful that we have the support of the local church at Rockingham, as well as the prayer support and connections that we have with brothers and sisters around the country and even overseas. We could not do the work that God is calling us to without the counsel, prayers and nurture that we receive from you. I give thanks to the Lord for the way that he provides for our needs through his Body, the Church.

This Body is developing here in Washington. It continues to amaze me how long it takes for deep, rooted community to take shape. Indeed, in many ways the process of shared growth never ends. Yet I do feel like we have taken real steps forward in recent months. I pray that God will continue to be present with us here in DC, so that Capitol Hill Friends might become a church that can itself provide care and support, inviting others to become living members of the Body of Christ.

Thank you for your faithfulness in praying for us here on Capitol Hill. Your prayers are effective. We feel them here. Please continue to ask God to send the Holy Spirit and build up Christ's Body in Washington, DC. Ask God to strengthen Capitol Hill Friends as we seek to share and embody the good news and love of Jesus Christ.

Friday, September 02, 2011

"I have given them your word and the world has hated them, for they are not of the world any more than I am of the world. My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one."

-Jesus in John 17:14-15

To what extent does the Christian life require boundaries and separation from the ways of the world? For those whose lives are in harmony with the prevailing norms of the general culture, the need of the Christian community to distinguish itself - and even, at times, to separate itself - from the general culture can appear silly, at best. At worst, it can be seen as a rejection of humanity - precisely the opposite of what Jesus did.

Jesus modeled a life that embodied God's love in the midst of a confused, selfish and rebellious society. Jesus did not cut himself off from the wounded and broken lives of those around him. On the contrary, he sought out those who were most despised in his culture - lepers, prostitutes and tax collectors. He ate and spoke with people who were considered untouchable. If we intend to follow the example of Jesus, we are called into relationship with the outcasts, the broken-hearted and miserable of the world.

It is worth remembering, however, that Jesus did not completely give himself over to the crowds. At many different points, the mob would have gladly embraced him as a king, a warrior messiah who would drive out the Romans and restore Israel's honor. The crowds were desperate for a man who would restore their pride, crush the Roman occupiers, and promise an abundance of bread and entertainment.

Jesus did not shy away from ministering to the needs of the crowd. He regularly healed their sick, and he miraculously provided for their material needs on a number of occasions. Yet, Jesus made clear that he could not become the kind of messiah that they desired.

Jesus regularly retreated, escaping the press of the crowd, and even the company of his closest disciples. Jesus separated himself physically, withdrawing alone into the wilderness, on mountaintops, and in deserted, wild places. He sought solitude to pray, to focus his attention on God and to receive the guidance and strength that he needed to go forward with a mission that was so contrary to the expectations of the world around him. Jesus needed this time in solitude to remember who he really was; whose son he was; and for what purpose he was sent into the world.

There were many tender, broken-hearted individuals who encountered God in Jesus and were healed of their infirmities. There were those who were open to the love and truth that Jesus offered. But, understandably, most people in the crowd wanted easy answers. They wanted bread. They wanted victory over the foreign oppressors who occupied their ancestral lands and their holy city. The people - even many of Jesus' closest disciples, it seems - yearned for a military savior who would destroy Israel's enemies.

No one, it seems, could grasp the real significance of Jesus' mission. It was beyond human imagination that the Savior would come to show love rather than to exact vengeance. It was unthinkable that the Messiah should be put to death - and in the most shameful manner! - rather than conquering his enemies with violence. Jesus had good reason to distance himself from the crowds. If he did not, they would have made him a king after their own fashion.

Yet, despite their lack of understanding, Jesus lingered with the crowds. He taught them, fed them, and healed many of them. Some of them caught glimpses of the new order of love and wholeness that Jesus was ushering in. They could not understand it yet, but they sensed that something true and real was happening through this man, Jesus.

There were others, though, that were bitterly hardened against Jesus. This hardness of heart was not found primarily within the plebeian crowds; instead, it was the wealthy, educated and powerful men of that society who were most resistant to Jesus' teaching.

As long as they held on to their power and privilege, these men had good reason to fear Jesus. Jesus was explicit in his challenge to the "important" people of his day - the arrogant priests, scholars and government officials that preyed on the weakness of the poor and lived in luxury while most of their countrymen suffered the consequences of Roman occupation.

These men never got very close to Jesus. And who could blame them? Jesus denounced the cruel oppression of the wealthy, announcing the Jubilee year - the cancelation of everyone's debts.(1) Far from being cozy with the elites, he challenged them to sacrifice their luxury and special privileges, caring for the poor and releasing the oppressed.

Jesus was no easier on the Pharisees, the legalistic religious scholars with whom Jesus probably had the most in common out of all of the existing groups in Israel at that time. Like Jesus, the Pharisees saw that the prevailing order in Judea was severely twisted and unjust. But instead of turning to God for guidance, the best they were able to come up with was a rigorous, extremely detailed code of religious rules based out of their interpretation of the Scriptures.

Like so many Christians today, the Pharisees were more concerned with tithes, etiquette and "purity" than they were with leading lives of vulnerability and self-sacrificial love. They kept all of the rules, but their hearts were barricaded against the living power and love of God. They rallied around the dead letter, devising an elaborate system of rules and regulations, while ignoring the Spirit that inspired the Scriptures.(2)

Jesus was never cozy with the political, religious and intellectual elites of his culture. Not because he did not love them, but because their hearts were too hardened to hear him. Those who sought to preserve their power, or their special status as interpreters of God's law, had no interest in getting close to Jesus. He represented a basic threat to everything they held dear - that is to say, their privilege and self-importance.

In fact, the only times that Jesus ever separated himself from the powerful was when they wanted to kill him. When he was just a baby, Jesus' family had to flee to Egypt to avoid the slaughter of infants ordered by King Herod.(3) And Jesus had to flee mob violence at his home synagogue when he began his preaching ministry there.(4)

But Jesus would not stay away, even from those who wanted him dead. He kept returning, kept preaching, kept proclaiming the message of God's love and power. If he had chosen to avoid those who wanted to kill him, he certainly would not have traveled to Jerusalem. Jesus could have started an intentional community out in the desert, like the Essenes. He could have lived his life in relative peace and isolation. Instead, Jesus engaged directly, not only with those who wanted to make him king, but with those who wanted to nail him to a cross.

Jesus' example to us is not one of rejecting the world.(5) As followers of Jesus, we are called not to condemn the wider culture but rather to share with others the hope that is within us because of our living relationship with God. (6) How does this play out in our life as a community of Jesus-followers today? What does it look like for us to love the world as Jesus does? When is it appropriate for us to distance ourselves in order to have the strength and wisdom to more fully engage with the world?

As we involve ourselves in the struggles and heartaches of this world, how can we remember whose children we are?